who still believes in kings?

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

Not much time at all has passed since the Slagveld fire. She wouldn't have let it, not without knowing if Jack was alright, or if he knew anything about the shitstorm that took place. She certainly fucking didn't.

As she trots across the docks on four legs rather than two, she can feel the beat of her heart hasten. Refreshed anxiety pounds in unison with it. For now, she can only hope he's made it out of that mess unscathed. Hastily, she pounces onto the main deck of the Ark. Soon she'll make her way to the cabin door upon realizing no one is out and about.

It's here that she returns to her natural form but, even that isn't entirely natural. It's new, it's different. Yet Jack had recognized her...

Aurelia's shoulders bunch and her jawline feathers as she knocks on the door, choosing not to barge in (which is uncharacteristic as shit).

"Jack. You there?"

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

"It's open."

And it is, for once. Aurelia's tendency (and everyone else's, honestly), to barge into his cabin has had Jack locking it twice for good measure lately, but the captain is busy after all of the excitement from last night.

When she walks in it will be to find him at his desk, a few bits of parchment scattered about him with a mix of sketches and notes; if Aurelia looks close, it's everything (and more) that transpired yesterday at the Slagveld. And Jack? He's in the same clothes, smoke smudged and all, and he doesn't look up from where he's writing his last notes.

"You are alive. That's good," he murmurs. "...And you have a new face, too."

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

Needing no further welcome, she opens the door, swinging it a little too wide in her haste so that it bumps noisily against the wall behind it. Immediately she gets a whiff of smoke from his room. Which she doesn't pay much mind, considering she probably doesn't smell much better. Her gaze hovers over Jack where he sits at his desk, soot-stained, writing a myriad of notes. She can only assume what they're about, doubting that anything else would be on his mind right about now.

He doesn't look up, but if he did he'd find her in the same state as him, although her clothes are distinctly burnt from being struck by lightning not once but twice. Strings of scars line her skin from where the energy ravaged through her veins and left through her hands. Thanks to Milo's healing she is alive. "Barely," she mutters.

"I came as soon as I was able, soon as I thought it was clear," she says, closing in on the desk with sweeping strides. She doesn't nose around his notes {yet}, stare hardening on his face.

It looks as though he did make it out without so much as a scratch and, for that, she's relieved. Heavily she slumps down into the chair opposite him with a ragged sigh, waving off the comment about her face. "Fuck..."

Suddenly leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, she snags one of his stray notes to look it over. But she holds it in a momentary pause, looking across at Jack with some measure of expectancy. "Did you see anything? Hear.. anything?" If even she could begin to connect the dots, it would serve them well in preventing this crap from happening again, from getting worse. Maybe.

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

They are almost reflections of each other, Jack able to see her even without looking at her, and he offers a very faint smile at her opening remark. "Barely is still better than dead," he points out, finally setting down his pencil to look up at her. Honestly, his eyes are a little glazed - a combination of dragging his magic through the mill to record everything before it fritters away, and the migraine that threatens at any moment.

"Fuck," he agrees, settling back to let her pick up the notes. The one she has snagged shows a sketch of the inside of the Slagveld with the ceiling caving in from above, the fire, the smoke. But her questions have a slow smile creeping across his face, and he regards her quietly from across his desk. Then he drags open a drawer, takes out a bottle, and pours them both a glass.

"I see and hear everythin'," he reminds her. "I'll be sharin' all of that with the Governor and his husband directly if it's all the same to you though, Arbiter." Yeah, he knows. Of course he knows. But why didn't he hear it from her?

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

The note is forgotten, even if it still rests in her hand. The glass goes untouched, too.

In a way, it is all the same to her. Suppose she'd prefer it that way. If Jack wants to shoulder that weight too then so be it. Through the pang of frustration, however, she feels a sense of knowing and a guilt that comes with it. She knows he's upset at her for not telling him about her new title.

"I wasn't going to keep it from you," she states, meeting his glazed eyes and personally understanding that feeling. She doesn't have to be a mind-reader for that. "I planned on telling you... I wasn't going to send a fucking letter, Jack." No, that would feel too impersonal. "But between what happened to me in the Oerwoud-" where a spirit or some unnatural phenomena quite literally changed her face "-and this shit.. it's a gods-damned mess, Jack, I'm sorry." Her voice shakes into an apology with the honesty, built-up frustration, and lingering trauma behind it. It's all fucked. As for where they'll go from here? That's up to him.

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

"But you still ended up keepin' it from me." Jack doesn't leave the glass, knocking it back in a smooth motion and relishing the burn that coats his throat, that brings focus away from the pounding between his eyes and lends him a little more clarity. He doesn't expect the apology of all things, a brow raising as he sets the glass down and settles a little more comfortably in his seat. Running his tongue across his teeth, he looks her over.

"It's a gods-damned mess," he agrees. "Shame, too. The Ark was better for you bein' on her." That's about as much as she'll get from him in terms of showing how he feels about losing her to the Governor, of all people. "Still, I s'pose you've got your work cut out for you when they get back." They both do. "Why the fuck'd you kill the unicorn, though?"

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

"It was never personal to you, you made that clear from the beginning, so don't get all sentimental on me now," she retorts with words that are sharpened and defensive, though that fades, "besides, it's not like I did die..." Not like she isn't still here, for whatever it'll be next. She doesn't imagine herself refusing him should he need her help or company in the future. But that thought remains a thought, feeling that it's ill-timed to say here and now, especially given that she's just told him to not get sentimental.

"What, should I have let it scurry off? Chased after its companion and gone in blind? If I'd done it that way I'd be dead for sure," no, maybe she hadn't exactly played it perfectly, but she certainly knew better than to go charging in after an enemy she couldn't see. "I couldn't let them think they'd won." She doesn't mention that something in her had snapped, can't mention it. All she wanted was to make them feel the pain she'd felt long ago, and seeing the Slagveld go up in flames had ignited that deep-rooted vengeance once more. She'd lost everything to fire once already. Didn't feel like losing anything again. She'd rather die.

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

"Didn't die, just got a better offer," Jack assumes, taking her glass as well to knock it back since she's not going to touch it. Stacking them together, he settles back in his seat to watch her through hooded eyes, not bothering to grace her with so much as a raise of his eyebrows at the mention of sentimentality. "Well I'll be sure to let you check over the Ark's stock whenever she comes into port, same as the other sailors."

As for the unicorn, Jack scoffs and slips a cigarette out of a pack on the desk, offering one out to Aurelia. "You couldn't let 'em think they'd won," he repeats, striking a match to spark up. "Not sure that kinda thinkin' is beneficial for an Arbiter, but you do you." Taking a slow drag, Jack exhales and gazes across at her, level and weary and quite fed up of this Slagveld bullshit. "They didn't win, for what it's worth."

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

Aurelia watches somberly as he takes her glass and in that moment she regrets not having taken it for herself, but the moment is gone and she doesn't dwell on it too much. As much as she'd like to sink herself into a hard drink and bog down the weight behind her eyes with something warm, numbing, it doesn't feel like it'd really cure anything.

"Perhaps you'll know when I'm coming, then," she states, an edge to her tone as she flashes him a look. "Maybe I'll have to oversee some of your voyages, too. Make sure you aren't.. getting up to no good." Of course, if he was truly opposed and this only made him bristle further against her, then she would be inclined to let it go. "I'm not going to forget what you've done for me, Jack," she adds, "call it a debt... if it makes you feel better about it."

The cigarette is something she can accept, and she does quickly, having learned from the last time she let the offer linger. He sparks a match, she manifests embers from her own machinations, though it is subtle and not meant to draw attention as she puffs the cigarette to life. Which is an ironic way to put it, since it feels like death in her lungs. "I'm not exactly experienced in anything but killing to uphold the law," she remarks quietly around the filter, of her kinda thinkin', a gentle reminder of who they both know she really is. She shakes her head and mumbles out, "barely Arbiter for two seconds and this shit happens. You could say I was ill-equipped to handle it." She scoffs loudly, a sprinkle of ash descending in the wake of her breath.

Except she's not really looking at him when she says these things, having diverted her gaze and it's not until he says something about them not winning that her eyes look back up at him. Her brows furrow and she swipes the cigarette from between her lips. "What do you mean?" She asks in a tone that's careful and curious all at once.

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

"I am always up to no good." A slow smile creeps across Jack's lips around his cigarette. "So I s'pose a wise Arbiter would keep tabs. Though she might wish to ensure she has someone watchin' the islands while she's gallivantin' off at sea. You've seen it yourself, how quick things go tits up here." It's certainly not a no, though, and he flicks the ash from the cigarette and tips her a wink for her trouble. "Reckon I will treat it as a debt, thank you very much."

He barks out a laugh at the admission of Aurelia's being ill-equipped - he can't really deny that, but they both know who she is and who she used to be, so there's no point dragging that out. Especially when it's bringing an already low mood down even further. So Jack focuses on the good in all of this, reaching out with dexterous fingers to spread the rest of his notes and sketches. "I told you," he said, "I see an' hear everythin'. I caught sight of that big ol' eagle flyin' away from the Slagveld, didn't you? And the woman, the unicorn? Leave it to me. They'll be found."

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

The smile that eases across his face reflects on her own, though hers is softer and carries much less edge. She doesn't frankly care about what he gets up to, and he knows it. In Torchline, smuggling is virtually a way of life and trying to fight that would be like fighting a war. She knows better, so she thinks that working together (secretly) might be a better approach. Of course, she'll have to be careful with that and she's not so overconfident or naive to think it'll be easy. But she's been with the Ark for so long... it would be hard for her to leave it entirely behind, as if they never mattered to her, as if Jack never mattered to her. Maybe it's childish or selfish of her, maybe even greedy; biting off more than she can chew. Doesn't she always?

Her gaze flickers down over his hands as he spreads out his notes, and it's now that she looks at the one in her own hand. A sketch of the Slagveld while it was crumbling apart inside. She pulls a gentle drag from her cigarette.

Sees and hears everything, huh? She still doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. In all the chaos, she hadn't seen the eagle, not the woman. She'd seen the unicorn, obviously... but in the aftermath she had only one thing to be concerned about; her own life.

But leave it to him, he says, and she expels the smoke from her lungs with a sigh.

"I know that should make me feel better, Jack, but it doesn't..." she admits, "not quite." Her brain is still trying to piece things together and it won't accept just leaving it. Yet, she knows better than to argue with him, and so she doesn't. Her lips form a tight line as she replaces the note in her hands and lets her gaze sweep across the rest.

When she's gotten an eyeful of all the things he's seen and heard, she looks back up at him. "Thank you... back there, you... you had my back. Saved my life, or at least.. delayed my death for a bit," she chuckles darkly at this, though she grimaces instead of smiles.

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

"Yeah? What would make you feel better?" Jack inquires, taking another long pull from his cigarette and flicking the ash into a small tray set upon the desk. She gazes at the sketches and finally has her fill of them, the captain gathering them all back up apart from the single set of notes he's still working on, slipping them into a drawer where they'll stay until both the Governor and his neck-biter are free from their KQ available.

Aurelia is a veritable tangle of emotions today, which Jack can appreciate but at the same time, it doesn't mean he's here for it. Raising his eyebrows, he lifts a hand to acknowledge her thanks but not to suggest that she needs to draw it out at all. "You dragged me up off that cliff," he reminds her. "I ain't keen to be indebted to anyone, so that makes us even." Is he glad she's alive, though? Had he been worried at the time? Those aren't things he's willing to share.

"So when are you officially Sunjata's bitch?" he asks; in other words, when do I need to start looking for someone to replace you?

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Aurelia

'cause not everything means something, honey
so say the unsayable, say the most human things

The question points at her and she fumbles for an answer, rolling the cigarette between her fingers and chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Until I know they're caught, probably.. not much. But I can try and see if anyone else saw or heard anything. I'm sure your word alone is enough but, multiple witnesses will really.. solidify anything you've got," she sighs, letting the tension in her shoulders sag, "and it'll keep me busy in the mean time."

Debts, smuggling, and alcohol. It's the only language Jack seems to speak in, and for a moment Aurelia finds herself tired of going along with it, with letting him get off so easily when all of this was more important to her than that. Meant more. "I didn't drag you back from the brink of your own oblivion because there was something in it for me," she says with an annoyed pinch of her brow, "and I know it's the same for you. You already knew I was Arbiter, you knew I'd be leaving, but you helped me anyway. But it's fine, you don't have to say it... consider us.. mostly even."

Sunjata's bitch. One corner of her lip twists into a smirk and for a moment her expression seems to scream 'you fucker'. "Now, I guess." Between the Slagveld and Sunjata being gone, it's only right that she tries to uphold her new duties - even if it would appear that's gone to shit already. Whatever. She won't just sit back and say 'sorry Sunjata, this is your problem'.

if everything is temporary
I will bear the unbearable

JACK

Jack tilts his head at her, as if dubious about her reasoning, before she mentions keeping herself busy. That he can understand very well indeed, Jack offering her a decisive not and letting the matter drop. Well, mostly. "With your new role, are you in charge of arrestin' people as well, then?" he asks, blowing a whorl of smoke into the air and leaning back comfortably in his chair now that the notes are written.

Such is his power, that he can be aware of what Aurelia thinks but he can't let her in on it, so for now all Jack can really do is let her be tired of him. Like he cares anyway. "There should've been somethin' in it for you," he points out, as if to remind her that a favour from him is something both difficult to come by and a rare as hens' teeth. "But sure. Mostly even."

Then she admits that she's officially not part of the Ark as of right now, and Jack snorts and fetches his bottle back to refill both glasses. "Then here's to you and your terrible decisions," he mutters, clinking his glass against hers before she can pick it up. And if it's not gone by the time Jack's is, he'll take hers again.

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended